Charade
by sprntrl grl
Summary: Another fic about Derek and Kyle, after Judgement Day. A follow up to 'When the World Ends' but it can be read by itself. May be continued, depends on feedback. My first multi-chapter fic, by the way. R&R, please!
1. Chapter 1: Survival

Charade – Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles

Chapter 1: Survival

"…And the prince saved his people. They cheered in the streets and lived happily ever after."

Derek sighed heavily and looked at his mother. She was telling the now sleeping Kyle a story, one where everything ended happily. The people were all okay; no one was in danger. There was plenty to eat, no monsters trying to hurt them any more. Derek's mother looked right at him as she finished the story, standing and taking Kyle to his bed, the small cot that for some reason had still remained in the basement where they all now sought refuge.

"Good night, Kyle," his mother said softly, as she covered him with a blanket. "Sleep tight." She brushed his hair away from his eyes and stood slowly.

"It's all over."

Derek jerked his head to his father. "What?" he said at the same time as his mother, who turned, startled. Derek's father rarely spoke any more.

"It's over. We're finished. There's nothing anyone can do about it," he said. He stared at the concrete floor just in front of him, his mouth open a little in disbelief and denial.

"Don't say that!" Derek's mother hissed. She looked terrified. Belief was keeping her alive, and to say that it was over meant giving up. Allowing themselves to give up hope.

"Oh, stop the charade," their father snapped, finally looking at her.

"We'll be all right. We have to be," their mother said, desperately.

"You've seen what's going on out there!" Derek's father half-shouted. "You know what's going on! You've seen what they've done!" He took a deep breath, and continued, "You've seen those – those _things_."

Derek watched them argue, eyes flicking back and forth between his mother and his father. He knew what his father was talking about. The _machines_. He'd heard their whispered conversations when he and his brother were supposed to be asleep. Their parents would come back from sneaking upstairs, attempting to find out what was going on, or to get food. They were always terrified, and maybe a little shell-shocked.

"We'll be okay," said their mother. "We have to be."

"Are you blind? You've _seen_ them!" Their father hissed.

He opened his mouth to continue, but Derek interrupted him.

"Stop, Dad. Kyle's sleeping," he said. He nodded at his little brother.

Derek watched his father look at the ground. The suddenly ancient man took a deep, shuddery breath, and put a hand to his head. "What's the world come to, Derek?" he said without looking at his son. Then he glanced at Kyle. "Kyle," he said. He closed his eyes.

"Let him think we have a chance," said Derek. He didn't want to say it. He wanted his parents to stop being scared and tell him and Kyle that everything would be okay. Nothing bad could get them. They were safe. There was never any danger. "He can survive, if we teach him how. We've still got food for another week or so."

Derek's father just stared at the floor. His mother let out a dry sob, and started towards him.

"Oh, Derek," she said, kneeling in front of him. "I'm so sorry," she said, beginning to cry. "You shouldn't have to deal with this. I'm sorry. You're still a boy, Derek."

"Mom, don't cry."

She couldn't stop.

"Really, Mom, please don't cry."

She wiped her tears and threw her arms around her son. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "This isn't fair, to you or Kyle."

Kyle stirred. Immediately, the mood tensed. Derek watched his mother compose herself, and his father try to appear calm.

"Mom?" he mumbled, turning over. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, sweetie. Go back to sleep," she said, going to him and making sure he was covered by his blanket. "Everything will be alright," she whispered, turning to look at Derek.

Derek was certain he was the only one who heard her say, "Right?"


	2. Chapter 2: Goodbyes

Their food was running out.

Derek saw the meager supplies they had. He saw how his mother tried to play down their lack of food, or that tonight they were only sharing a can of beans.

"Is this all the food we have left?" Kyle asked, his eyes asking much more than that.

Their mother tried to pull off an airy laugh. "No, of course not, dear. We're just conserving our food. Making it last as long as we can. Just in case. There's more – upstairs."

Derek caught the lie. He put his head down and tried not to think about how close they were to the end. Tried not to think of how little it would take for them to die down here, trapped out of fear and uncertainty; how much they needed Kyle to survive.

Kyle didn't believe his parents, this even Derek could see. Kyle was too sharp. He saw the tension, the fear. He noticed how his parents were never calm, how they never really slept.

"Okay," he said, and their mother immediately relaxed a fraction. As long as he believed.

Although Kyle believed their lies, they couldn't hide the fact that they needed to venture upstairs again. It was dangerous. There was the possibility of radiation, or, as their parents had recently discovered from peering cautiously out the windows, the _machines_.

So, they prepared to go upstairs, once more. Maybe they could find more food, or find out what was happening. That is, if they were brave enough to venture outside.

Derek watched his mother and father try to prepare themselves. Derek's father stared at the floor in front of him, still a broken man. He watched his mother pace and wring her hands. Finally, they braced themselves enough and prepared to ascend the wooden staircase.

On a whim, as their father disappeared from sight, their mother turned and knelt in front of Kyle. "Kyle," she said, her voice quivering, ever so slightly. "I love you. You know that, right?" she asked. "And you, too, Derek." She glanced at her eldest son for a moment, before turning back to Kyle.

Derek nodded. "Love you, Mom."

Kyle nodded, too. "I love you, too, Mom," he said. He didn't say what Derek knew they both desperately wanted to burst out – _Why are you telling me this? Why are you saying good-byes?_

Without another word, their mother stood and went after their father, gently closing the basement door behind her.

Kyle watched the doorknob turn as the door clicked shut with a final click. Then he turned and practically ran to Derek, seeking assurance that that was not the last time he would see his parents' faces. He slumped down next to his brother, against the wall, clearly scared, his lips trembling and tears in his eyes.

Derek wanted to tell his brother not to be scared; everything would be all right. He heard the front door open and close, as their parents walked out, beginning their search for food and information.

"Kyle–" he started to say to reassure his little brother that everything would be okay – when he heard gunshots, and a telltale, desperate scream.


	3. Chapter 3: Instructions

"Derek?" Kyle said, for he'd heard the shots, too. Fear was on his face and in his eyes. He was close to tears, a meltdown of his own.

Derek hissed, "Shh!" He heard wheels, metallic noises, _machines_. He listened for a moment, then whispered, barely loud enough for Kyle to hear, "Don't make a sound."

They waited, breaths held, until Derek was certain the machines had passed.

Derek turned to his brother. Kyle was crying – heaving, soundless sobs.

"Kyle, stop it. Everything's fine." It was a blatant lie, and both of them knew it. If everything was fine, why were they cowering down here?

Kyle only began to cry harder. He twisted his face, trying to stop, wiping his eyes with his hands. Derek watched his brother, crouching down so they were eye to eye. "Kyle, listen to me," he said firmly, taking charge. "We'll be okay. I promise. You and me, we're gonna make it."

Kyle nodded, tears running down his cheeks.

Derek stood up. "I'll be right back. Don't move, okay? Don't make a sound. I'll come get you when it's safe. I'll only be a few minutes. If you hear the mach– if you hear anything, you hide, got it? Hide down here."

Kyle nodded at his brother's instructions, lips trembling as he attempted to be the brave son his mother would have wanted him to be.

Derek left then, no good-byes like his mother had made. He would return. He wasn't going to die. Kyle needed him. He clung to wisps of hope – maybe his parents were alive. Maybe that hadn't been them that had been shot. Maybe something else had happened. His hope slipped away, however, as he climbed the steps.

He opened the door carefully, peering around him. Everything was grey – there was little light outside, although it couldn't have been later than two or three in the afternoon. The house was a mess. The pantry and the kitchen were ransacked – what was left of them, anyway. The living room was covered in debris. The windows were all shattered. Each step he took made a sickening crunch. Derek felt like he was walking on bones.

He reached the front door. It was open a crack. He peered through the crack, and what he saw made him want to stop living, right then and there. He closed his eyes and willed it to be a dream, a mirage, _something_. As long as it wasn't real.

Two bodies lay in the street, blood pooling around them, dark halos of death. His father lay face down, shot in the back. His mother's mouth was still open in her scream, cut short by the bullets that had torn her limbs to shreds.

Derek took deep breaths, forcing himself to think purely of survival. He could be emotional later. He could smash something or cry later. He needed to get himself and Kyle somewhere safer, and he needed to do it before the machines came back. They couldn't survive in that basement much longer. Most importantly, he couldn't let Kyle see their parents' bodies.

Mind racing, he carefully made his way back downstairs, to his brother, who sat huddled in the same spot, shaking in his terror and the thought that something had happened to his parents.

"Kyle," he said carefully, crouching down so he was eye level with his brother. "Listen carefully."

Kyle nodded.

Derek continued, "We're going to go upstairs, really carefully. Okay? Quietly. You're going to take my hand and close your eyes. Don't open them until I say so. Then we're going to go to the town hall. There's bound to be others there. We'll be safer." He paused a beat, then said, "Okay?"

Kyle nodded, tight lipped and teary eyed.

"Come on, then," Derek said, standing up and offering his hand to his brother. Kyle took it, and pulled himself up, still shaking.

He followed Derek upstairs, cringing at the glass and the debris and shattered windows. When they reached the door, Derek held out his hand and Kyle took it, screwing his eyes shut. Derek swallowed hard, and led his brother past their parents, still bleeding on the road, never to comfort them again.

Once they were far enough away, Derek whispered, "Okay, Kyle, you can open your eyes." Kyle did so, almost unwillingly. He followed Derek through the remnants of their town. It was debris and waste and broken glass. The road was littered with cars and glass. There were no bodies. Derek didn't want to know what the machines had done with them.

Finally, they reached it. Before them stood the once almost majestic town hall, now reduced to rubble and broken concrete, a symbol of what had happened to mankind.

"Derek?"

Derek glanced at his brother. "What?" he asked.

"What happened to Mom and Dad?"

Derek looked at the ruins and the grey destruction around them, and found that he didn't have an answer to that. What should he tell him? The truth? Or should he let his little brother still be a kid? "I don't know," he finally said. "I don't know, Kyle."


End file.
